


The Scar Between Us

by peppermintquartz



Series: Cricket [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Hand Jobs, M/M, Pre-Canon, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:17:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9469058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintquartz/pseuds/peppermintquartz
Summary: After he becomes blind, Chirrut learns again how to navigate his world. It isn't easy.Baze wants to help. He knows better.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tags have gone up because the boys want to... well.

Baze heard the swearing from the walkway and wondered what had riled his normally cheerful lover up. When he entered the room, Chirrut was sucking on his right thumb. He shook his right hand a couple of times before tucking it behind himself.

“Baze, hello. How is Jedha today?” asked Chirrut with a bright smile.

“Show me your hand.”

“There's nothing to-”

“Show me, Cricket.”

There was no arguing with Baze when he used that tone, so Chirrut slowly took his right hand from behind him. There was a bright red burn mark across the pad of the thumb. It had not blistered but it looked painful, and Chirrut winced when Baze prodded at the edge of it.

Baze huffed and drew a bowl of cool water for Chirrut to soak the thumb. “You have to be more careful.”

“How else will I learn?” Chirrut joked feebly. He swallowed and added, “I wanted to make tea.”

Baze's first instinct was to say _I can do that for you next time_ , but he checked himself. It was not his place or intention to make Chirrut dependent on him, and it would breed resentment in both of them. Instead, Baze took Chirrut's left hand and kissed his lover's knuckles. “We'll figure out a system for you.”

The smile that Chirrut blessed him with was worth everything. Baze just studied Chirrut in the fading light. In the next day or two, the temple doctor would visit to give Chirrut the all-clear, then both of them would return to their training as guardians. Chirrut would receive individual lessons from Master Fenwoo, who had one functioning eye out of four; she would be able to help him overcome his disability. Master Fenwoo had visited last evening, in fact, and had spent an hour talking Chirrut through the challenges he was going to face in active combat.

“What news of Jedha, Baze?” asked Chirrut again, after his thumb was slathered with bacta gel and wrapped up.

“The usual. Beggars and pilgrims, thieves and fortunetellers, all making their way around the holy city.” Baze stretched to ease the ache in his lower back. “Clouds are amassing on the horizon, but Master P'ranai isn't sure when the rains would arrive.”

Chirrut smiled. “Soon, I hope. It's hot enough to be stifling in the afternoon. I never realized the dormitories are so warm in the daytime. And I could do with fresh fruit, it's been ages since the last fruiting.”

“Well, we're hardly ever in here in the day.” Baze was not really listening to what he was saying, running his thumb over the smooth skin on the back of Chirrut's left hand. He marveled at the difference between his own coarse fingers and the sleek texture of his lover's, and abruptly his mind directed him to considering how the skin on the rest of Chirrut would feel. The thought made the back of his neck warm and shivery. Pulling his hand away, Baze clumsily rose to his feet.

“I reek of sweat and other people,” he said. “I'll be back after a bath.”

*****

There was no time for loitering in the communal bathing rooms, with everyone rushing to clean up before mealtime, so Baze just scrubbed himself as clean as he could and strode back to the room. He wondered how Chirrut managed in the baths now. Though they shared quarters, Chirrut could go in the day when the initiates and acolytes were out training or attending to the pilgrims, so he at least had some privacy. Or perhaps he stuck to their narrow refresher unit, tucked in the corner. Hardly anyone in the temple used the refresher for showering when there were hot springs in the baths below, but it would be easier for Chirrut not to have to navigate the stairs while holding his bathing things.

In the past, they would race each other to the bath. It was a time off from the rigor and discipline of training. Of course they had looked at each other's naked body, and Baze had secretly admired the muscles on Chirrut's slim build. It was very different from his own thickset build. Chirrut was speed and agility and deadly intent, packed into an upbeat and chatty young man. Baze was made to bear heavy loads, made to endure extremes. Chirrut could not tolerate the changes in gravity the few times he had to venture off-world, but Baze found it easy to adapt to the environment.

When he got back, he heard Chirrut cursing fluidly and quickly opened the door.

“What's wrong?”

“I stubbed my stupid toes,” Chirrut snapped, fumbling to a chair. “A table that's been there since before we moved in, and I forgot that it's there, and I stubbed my kriffing toes!”

“You've done that before,” Baze said. “You did it before-” He trailed off, suddenly aware of what he was about to say.

Chirrut exploded. “That's different! Before I was blind, it was because I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings! Before I was blind, all these – these burns and cuts and scrapes – would be because I was distracted or careless! But now? Now I'm being _careful,_ and I'm _still getting burned and cut and bruised._ What's the kriffing point? I _hate_ being – I hate being _useless_ like this!”

Baze bit lightly on the tip of his tongue. He was never good with words, and this was a side of Chirrut he had never encountered. The larger initiate set down his dirty clothes and strode silently to his best friend and lover. Before he got there, Chirrut turned to face him.

“What do you want?” Chirrut snarled. His unseeing eyes were red-rimmed, and his voice was becoming thick with anger and self-loathing.

Baze sat down. “You knew where I was before I got to you,” he pointed out softly.

That made the younger initiate pause. He sniffed and turned his face aside. “So what?”

Gingerly, Baze put an arm around Chirrut's waist and tugged him into a loose hug. He murmured, “I don't know what to say to you that wouldn't sound stupid or trite. I'm not good with words. But you aren't the sort to give up, Cricket. It's only been a while. It's horrendously unfair of the Force, and I hate that you are suffering.” He didn't quite know what else to say, so he added, “I love you, Cricket. Whatever you choose to do, remember that I love you, and you are not useless. You're not useless because I love you.”

Chirrut's damp snort of laughter was not what Baze had expected, but that was better than more anger. Twisting around, Chirrut buried his face into Baze's neck. “You're such a fool.”

“Yeah? Tell me something I don't know.”

“I'm not useless just because you love me?”

“I _told_ you I'm not good with words.”

“You're such a foolish man.” Chirrut pressed his mouth to Baze's skin, smiling. “Good thing I'm around. Keep you from being a fool.”

Baze's pulse leaped as Chirrut continued to kiss his neck. “Yeah. You're going to have to stick around. No telling what kind of foolishness I'd get into if you weren't here to keep me in line.”

Chirrut lifted his head and ran his uninjured hand over Baze's cheek, his thumb brushing down the side of the older initiate's mouth. Baze caught the wandering hand and kissed the center of Chirrut's palm, before he clasped it against his chest, where his heart raced with love and yearning for his closest friend. 

“When we become guardians,” said Baze, driven by the impulsiveness of his nineteen Standard years, “will you bind yourself to me?”

His heart galloped wildly after he uttered the words. He had not meant to say this now. He had not meant to say it ever, even. It was enough to be with Chirrut without ever saying them. What had he to offer, being so common and plain? Not so gifted as to be a Jedi, not so strong that he could not be bested, not so wise that he could teach. All he had was his faith and loyalty, and he wanted to have Chirrut. Chirrut who was smart and smart-mouthed and sharp, Force-sensitive Chirrut who always could jump higher and run faster, who could fight like he was dancing, who was meant for someone so much better than Baze could ever be-

“Only if you bind yourself to me,” said Chirrut. His cheeks flushed a soft, happy pink and he squirmed in Baze's hold. “Now let me go, you bantha. I want to make tea. Then we can go down to dinner and evening meditation.”

“I'll lay out the teacups for you.” Baze kissed Chirrut on his lips. He could not _not_ do so. There was a Light about Chirrut, radiant and faint; Baze wondered if, for the first time, he was seeing the Force. If that even mattered right now. Chirrut was happy, so Baze was happy. It was that simple, really. Baze would try to be someone Chirrut deserved, and in the meantime, make him smile every day.

Thunder echoed in the far distance, promising rain.


	2. Chapter 2

Chirrut woke with a start. There was a dampness in the air and he could hear the static drumming of rain against the window. It was so much louder than it used to be, somehow, and Chirrut resented that something he used to love could be so irritating. Cold wind blew in through the slats, bringing tiny droplets that the blind young man could feel on his bare arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Behind him, Baze snored softly. Each exhale was punctuated with a quiet, rumbling hum. Though Chirrut could only vaguely sense Baze's posture, he could feel heat radiating from the other man. Then a rustle of cloth and Baze's arm landed on Chirrut's hip. Judging by the heft, Baze had put on more muscle.

 _Perhaps he had bulked up elsewhere too,_ thought Chirrut. _After two months off-world, training with Master P'ranai..._

A languid heat pooled low in his gut. He wasn't certain what to do about it. They might be sharing a bed, but they had not gone beyond kisses in the two weeks they had begun their relationship. Neither were experienced in expressing their longing physically, and the fulfilment of sexual desire, while not expressly forbidden, was not encouraged either. It was _understood_ that some might require easement in this aspect, and pair-bondings were not that rare even among the masters. The temple just did not address this aspect of their physical bodies, was all. In the past, when Chirrut felt his body's heat rising, he would either meditate or exercise the urge off in a training room. He could count the times he brought himself to climax on one hand.

_Speaking of hand..._

Careful not to wake Baze, Chirrut reached down between his legs. He stroked himself over his pants, almost embarrassed by the pleasure that flickered through him. Almost absently, he slipped his hand inside to wrap around bare skin, and his breath hitched on his third stroke.

“What are you doing?” Baze murmured, tugging Chirrut towards himself and pressing his nose to the back of Chirrut's neck. “It's hours to the first bell.”

Chirrut nearly yelped in surprise. He jerked his hand out of his pants and gulped. “Nothing.”

“Liar,” laughed the sturdy initiate as he snuggled close. His voice was low, secretive, as if the heavy downpour outside would not mask any sound he made. “Were you going to masturbate?”

“Baze!” Chirrut wanted to scold, but embarrassment made him shy. He squirmed a little when Baze skated his hand over Chirrut's waist and over his hip. “It was a momentary weakness.”

Still chuckling, Baze nuzzled into the back of Chirrut's neck. “A weakness that seems to be catching,” he said. He shifted and cradled Chirrut with his entire form. Chirrut felt his cheeks warm up when Baze's erection pushed into the softness under his thigh.

“Oh.”.

“I haven't touched myself since before I went off-world,” Baze admitted wryly. The way his lips brushed over the fine hairs on the back of Chirrut's neck made the latter's nerves tingle. “And after my return, it's been quite a hectic two weeks.” He inhaled, scenting Chirrut, and murmured, “You smell amazing.”

The blind initiate wanted to tease, but the other young man's arousal had redirected his train of thought. He twisted around to face Baze, brushing his fingers over his lover's face and lips. Baze was smiling and nipped at his exploring digits, but there was an air of relaxed ease about him. Perhaps that was because it was raining, or they were possibly the only two awake on Jedha at this moment.

With the deafening downpour, it was easy for Chirrut to think that they were the only two alive in the galaxy.

“Do you... do you want to touch me?” Chirrut asked. He was unaccustomed to being unsure. Baze's sharp intake of air reassured him.

Baze's thumb rubbed small circles on Chirrut's skin. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

They kissed, urgent and deep. Kicking off their sleep pants, the two initiates finally felt their naked skin pressed together. Chirrut moaned softly and arched into the contact. Baze hummed pleasantly and pulled one of Chirrut's knees up, draping the blind initiate's leg over his hip.

Baze kissed his lips, his chin, his nose, his breath sleep-warm as it gusted over Chirrut's skin. “You're so lovely like this,” he whispered, and rolled them so he was on top. Chirrut grunted from the other initiate's weight, but found himself responding in desire and want when Baze leaned down to cup his face and kiss him. “So open and honest.”

“Are you implying that I'm less than honest, Baze Malbus?” Chirrut demanded with an impish grin. Baze lying on him felt good in ways he had never thought about. He tried to shuffle up the bed but was manhandled back into place. That his gentle Baze could be this forceful sent delight tickling down Chirrut's spine.

“You are a lying little shit, Chirrut Imwe, and have been since we met,” Baze declared. He nuzzled into Chirrut's neck. “You told the masters then that we were brothers even though we had just met. Do you remember? A blatant lie, what with our families still there with us.”

All the friction between their bodies made Chirrut's pulse race, drowning out the thunderous rain. Chirrut squirmed, feeling as though fire and lightning echoed under his skin, and was pinned down again with hungry kisses. Baze ran seeking hands along the younger initiate's sides until he could hook Chirrut's other leg around his waist. They rutted together for a while – minutes, perhaps, Chirrut had no idea – until Baze growled impatiently.

“Do you- do you know what to do?” Chirrut asked, suddenly apprehensive. He pushed Baze up, and this time the older initiate sat up and helped Chirrut settle into his lap. It felt safe and warm, cradled by Baze's entire being.

Baze nibbled on his ear. “Not really, no. But I'd like your hand on me, and I really like the idea of my hand on you.”

“Oh.” Chirrut's mouth went dry at the thought. “I'll use my hands on you first then.” He skated his right hand down from Baze's shoulder over his broad chest – it was muscling out nicely, Chirrut thought – down the smooth belly until he felt the nub of a belly button, and then followed the ticklish trail of hair until he encountered Baze's erection. “ _Oh._ ”

Baze was big. It had been an almost abstract concept to Chirrut until this moment. After all, they had seen each other's naked bodies ever since they were children. Baze had always been larger and broader, his physique the sort to pack on bulk. Even after puberty struck and friendship transmuted to longing, Chirrut had not truly considered how Baze's cock would differ from the occasions he saw it while bathing and when it was engorged with desire. He ran his hand over it, marveling at the satiny smoothness and the girth, how hot it felt in his palm. When he traced the thick vein up and down the shaft, Baze rumbled a curse and a full body tremor shuddered through him. Emboldened by the response, Chirrut explored with both hands, now feeling sticky fluid trailing after his fingertips whenever he rubbed them over the slick head of Baze's erection. He grasped Baze's cock and pumped it a few times, feeling how his calluses caught on sensitive skin.

“Like this?” he asked.

“You can... you can go harder,” Baze answered, his voice rough around the edges. His fingers dug into Chirrut's hips and his lips pressed fervent kisses to the soft spot under Chirrut's ear. “The Force... Chirrut, you've no idea what you do to me.”

The entire world narrowed down to this moment: feeling slick skin in his hands and the heat of Baze's arousal, hearing his harsh breaths and mumbled swearing, smelling their mutual desire trapped between them. He sped up his strokes, one hand rubbing where foreskin no longer sheathes Baze's cock, and the other sliding firmly along the shaft. Baze was thrusting weakly into his grip, even though that was difficult with Chirrut seated in his lap.

“Chirrut – Cricket-” Baze began, and then his breath hitched into an explosive, sharp gasp.

Chirrut felt hot, sticky ejaculate spurt from his Baze's cock into his palm, over his fingers; it dripped from his hand and trailed over his wrist. A keen sense of victory colored the moment golden-bright. He continued to stroke Baze until his lover pleaded quietly for him to stop, that it was too much. Chirrut sniffed curiously at his come-covered hand and then licked experimentally at his fingers. It tasted weird, but it was part of Baze, and that made Chirrut happier than anything. He sucked on his index finger, trying to get used to the taste. He wanted to remember this with every sense left to him. He had pleasured his lover and he was literally licking the results of his success off his own skin.

“Now touch me,” he ordered Baze, feeling giddy from lust.

Baze set to with a growl, his hand hot and gentle. Chirrut urged him on, rocking his hips up to thrust his cock into Baze's fist. It was incredible how _different_ this was from the scant few times Chirrut had touched himself. He could hear a soft, hitched keening sound, and was astonished when he realized it came from himself. Baze's grip was a little tighter than how Chirrut had held himself, and his calluses added a layer of roughness that drove Chirrut crazy.

“So lovely, so beautiful,” Baze murmured into the hollow under Chirrut's ear. “You are glowing, beloved, you're shining. So beautiful. Thank the Force you're mine, Cricket, you're so lovely, I'd kill anyone who gets to see you like this. I could watch you do this forever. Your cheeks are flushed, and your mouth – your lips, I could kiss them until the day we die and not have enough...”

His taciturn and quiet Baze saying all these words made Chirrut's heart feel too full for words. In a flash he understood why the Jedi were discouraged from forming such bonds. Chirrut loved _fiercely_ , at this moment, so much so that he would tear down worlds to protect Baze, his Baze who was holding him like he was precious and loving him like there was no one better to love. His Baze who stroked his cock and kissed his face and whispered loving words as they learned each other.

“Baze,” Chirrut said, nearly reverent. His skin was humming from stimulation. He could no longer tell where he ended and where his lover began. A tightness flared at the base of his spine and his mouth went dry again. “My Baze, my Baze...”

“Yours,” Baze agreed, stroking faster, harder, hearing the tremor in Chirrut's breathing. “Come for me, Cricket, let me see you undone, show me everything-”

All sensation rushed inward and then Chirrut came, his back arching into Baze's body. He stifled his cry by muffling his mouth against the other initiate's cheek, sobbing wetly against stubbled skin as his hips jerked. Baze milked his climax from him, the way he did Baze, until the blind initiate was pushing firmly on his hands to stop. They were very likely a mess, Chirrut thought. He could feel something drip from his chin.

Now he could hear the rain again. It was no longer as deafening as before.

They smelled amazing together, Chirrut thought. He pulled Baze into a crushing kiss and ignored the young man's half-hearted protests about them sticking together in the morning.

“We should clean up,” Baze scolded quietly as he swiped at Chirrut's belly with a bit of cloth. Probably a bunched-up sleep garment. Chirrut didn't care.

“We can clean up later,” he said, and tugged his lover down to the bedding. “Come here. I want to fall asleep to your heartbeat.”

 


End file.
